


Sacrifice

by Twisted_Mind



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Assisted Suicide, Character Death, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Heavy Angst, Het, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1597835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once the Boy-Who-Lived fell to the Dark Lord, the Light was snuffed out, one by one ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted June 4th 2012 at HP Fandom. Edited upon re-posting here. 
> 
> Please note: this is extremely dark. Betaed by GhostxWriter.
> 
> Seriously? What follows would never have happened in the actual-factual Potterverse. Ever. Ergo, I do not own.

Remus was sitting inside his dim, dingy cell on another full moon night, his thoughts running towards the darkly humorous. _The Death Eaters may have won, and I may not have the Wolfsbane Potion, but at least I won’t go round slaughtering any innocents if I’m locked up in here,_ he thought wryly.  
  
Of course, that was the moment his sensitive ears picked up the sound of a scuffle. As the sounds moved closer, he realized that a couple of Death Eaters were escorting another prisoner down to the dungeons. He moved closer to the door, trying to peer through the small window, hoping that he wouldn’t recognize the newest prisoner. Instead, he saw the twisted smile of Bellatrix Lestrange just outside the door. He recoiled quickly.  
  
“We have a sweet little something for you tonight, Wolf!” she simpered, “A lovely virgin for your dark appetite!” Bellatrix hissed with obvious pleasure.  
  
His stomach churned at the thought, before his cell door was thrown open, and a young woman was shoved in forcefully. Remus caught her up in his arms as she stumbled, saving her from falling to the floor. He turned instinctually so that she was shielded from the gaze of the cackling Death Eaters lingering at the cell door. the young woman finally lifted her face from his chest. A dingy ray of light shone through the window of the cell door, just enough to illuminate her features. Recognition shot through Remus.  
  
“Hermione?” he whispered, praying to anyone who’d listen that he was wrong.  
  
“Oh my God. Remus?” came the answering whisper.  
  
They clutched each other desperately as they sank to their knees on the rough stone floor. Remus was filled with abject horror – they had put her in here, with him, tonight? His thoughts caused his stomach to churn, and he pushed Hermione away from him as he ran to the bucket that served as a toilet to retch violently.

Suddenly, she was there, rubbing his back gently. He spat, and then laughed bitterly. “I’m so sorry, Hermione. More than I can express.”   
  
Her brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend what Remus had said. Then, slowly, the confusion gave way to resignation. “It’s a full moon tonight, isn’t it?” she asked quietly.  
  
“Yes,” Remus’s answer was short, bitter, and to the point.  
   
“And you’re my executioner.” Remus looked at her sharply. Her words held no condemnation. No hope. No hatred, nor even fear. Merely acceptance--of her own death.  
   
“You have to understand that I can’t save you, Hermione, even though I wish I could. I’d take your place in a heartbeat but this close to the change, the only thing that could do the job reliably is silver.” Remus’s voice was anguished.  
  
“Remus, I don’t blame you. I understand. How long do we have?”  
  
“How long do we have for what?” Remus repeated her question, confused.  
  
“How long do we have until the full moon rises and you change?” Hermione’s voice was urgent.  
  
 _I would probably want to know just the same, if I were in her place . . ._  he thought absently, before replying, “Just over an hour, I think. I could be wrong.”  
  
Hermione knelt on the floor in front of Remus, forcing him to look into her face. “Remus, I don’t blame you for any of this. I’ve known that I was living on borrowed time since . . . since Voldemort won the war.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she found herself unable to speak of Harry’s death. “I have only two things to ask you. And I’m asking you to please, please do them for me.” Her expression was desperate, though her voice remained steady. Remus nodded mutely.  
  
“I want you to kill me before you change. _Please_. I know it’s a horrible thing to ask you to kill me while you’re still conscious, and still a man, but . . .” she trailed off as tears started to leak from her deep brown eyes. “I don’t want to be torn apart by a werewolf.” Her voice trembled on the last word.  
  
Remus couldn’t help himself--he reached out to her, pulling her down into his lap. He rocked her gently as he gave his answer. “Yes. Yes, I will. I promise I’ll make it quick--you won’t feel a thing.” Tears began running down his cheeks as well, at the thought of ending her life. “I promise.”  
  
“The, the other request . . . Remus, I want you to love me. Please?” It came out in the barest of whispers, but in their quiet darkness, she was easily heard.  
  
“I do love you, sweetheart. Just like I loved Harry, and Sirius …” He replied, just as softly.  
  
“No.” She shifted so that her small, chilled hands were cradling his face, straddling his lap rather than sitting in it. “I want you to _love_ me,” she repeated, and then she kissed him--softly, chastely. But her meaning was inescapable.  
  
When she pulled back, his expression was stunned. “Hermione, I . . . I can’t! You, you’re . . .” he stuttered and stumbled, his words failing him.  
  
“Remus,” her expression was equal parts anguish and pleading, “Consider it my dying wish: not to die a virgin.” She blinked furiously, trying to fight the tears that were welling in her eyes. He opened his mouth, and closed it again. Words were still failing him. He shook his head. She leaned in to whisper against his lips, “One good thing. I want one good thing before I have to . . . leave. A gift, from you to me.” And then she kissed him again.  
  
As her lips moved over his, his will crumbled, even as his heart broke. _No girl’s first time should be like this . . ._  he thought despairingly, even as he tangled a hand in her hair to deepen the kiss. Shifting, he wrapped strong arms around her, and using the wall at his back as leverage, rose to his feet. Hermione wrapped her slender limbs around him.  
  
He set her gently on his narrow cot in the corner of the cramped room, and then kneeled on the floor before her. “You’re wrong, you know. It’s a gift, but it’s one you’re giving me. One I don’t deserve. Your first time . . . it should have been with someone you trusted, someone you truly cared about.” He brushed her hair away from her eyes. He needed her to understand this. “Are you sure about this?”  
  
She sighed softly, winding one of her hands into his thick hair. “Remus, I’ve always been drawn to you; your quiet warmth, your intelligent mind. I trust you. If . . . if things had been different, it might still have been you. As it is, I want it to be you, and at least this way, it’s my choice--it’s not Malfoy or one of the Lestranges taking me by force. Please.”  
  
He was undone by her fragile pleading. He rose up, kissing her deeply; the kiss never breaking as his hands began working at her clothing. He pulled back from her for a moment so she could pull his ragged long-sleeved shirt over his head. She toed off her shoes as he slipped the last buttons of her blouse from their holes. It was as she was lifting her hips so he could pull off her Muggle jeans that she heard him muttering.  
  
“What is it?” she asked.  
  
He looked up at her, his amber eyes seeming to hold all the sadness of the world. “I just wish I had enough time to make this as special for you as you deserve.” He stated simply, and then began running his hands up the insides of her thighs, forcing them apart. Once her legs were spread far enough apart, he ducked his head, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses up her left thigh. She gave a small, wordless cry when he swiped his tongue up her leg, and over her still-cotton-clad clit.

He moved back for a moment, hooking his fingers in the edges of her panties, and began dragging them down her legs. Though she blushed, Hermione still lifted her hips to allow Remus to pull them off her--though once they were gone, she felt very shy, and kept her legs closed. 

  
Remus stood and peeled off his trousers and pants, leaving himself completely nude. Coming back over to Hermione, one hand under her jaw tipped her head up for another kiss, while his free hand unclasped her bra. When the kiss broke--Remus wasn’t sure about her, but _he_ needed some air rather desperately--he slid it down her arms and off, to join the rest of their clothing on the floor.  
  
“You’re lovely, Hermione. Perfect. So stop worrying,” he whispered, before slithering back to his knees on the floor, and coaxing her legs open once more. When he began licking and nipping his way up her thigh, she trembled.  
  
“Remus, what . . . what are you doing?” she gasped out, nervousness colouring her voice.  
  
He looked her carefully in the eye, and answered, “Just trust me, sweetheart. Lie back.”  
  
She nodded mutely, soothed somewhat, and lay on the cot. Her nerves were still unsettled, but as she opened her mouth to speak, the words caught in her throat and she choked on them--Remus had just run his tongue over her, licking her from slit to clit with one broad, firm stroke.  
  
As his tongue continued to dance, flittering, over her slick flesh, his one hand stroked the underside of her thigh, while the other wandered up her body to rub at one of her nipples. When her legs began to tremble, signalling her impending climax, Remus carefully slid one finger inside her, and pushed against a place inside her that caused her to see stars.  
  
When Hermione opened her eyes, Remus was lying on his side next to her on the cot, his erection pressing insistently against her hip. She blushed, thinking about how he had just brought her to orgasm with his mouth, while he’d neglected his own need.

Seeing her blush, he grinned wickedly. Licking his lips, he then leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Don’t worry, sweetness--I enjoyed that as much as you did.” Pulling back, he pulled her right leg over his hip, causing her to turn on her side--and leaving her open to him. “Merlin, I hope you’re wet enough,” he muttered against the skin of her collarbone as he slid two fingers deep inside her. He didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud until she moaned his name.  
  
“Remus--I’m ready as I can be. Just do it already!” she hissed, but though her words were forceful, her tone was anything but.  
  
“Shh, ‘Mione . . .” he said soothingly, manoeuvring so that he lay within the cradle of her thighs, resting over her. She stroked up his back, loving the feel of his skin warm against hers. His hand under her thigh guided her leg around his hip as he eased his way inside. “Shh, sweetheart, it’ll only hurt for a second . . .” he murmured, sliding into her slowly, but steadily.  
  
She gave a little cry as she tore, but clutched Remus closer to her. And when he began to thrust into her velvety warmth, she found that he was right--the pain lasted but a moment.   
   
Remus quickly found a steady rhythm, pushing deeply into her young body, sliding along bundles of nerves inside her that caused electric tingles to race up her spine. When her breath started coming in gasps, he increased the force of his thrusts, burying his face against her to lick and suck and bite at the skin of her throat, while her hands raked across his back and tangled in his hair. They sped towards climax as Remus pounded into her with increasing force and speed – causing Hermione to mewl softly with each thrust.  
  
Finally, with one sharp, final bite to her collar bone, Hermione came; her mouth opened in a wordless cry, her limbs locking about her lover and her inner muscles clenching around Remus like a vice, wringing his orgasm from him as well. He came growling, his hips pistoning erratically as he spilled deep within Hermione’s pliant body. 

He lay on top of her, feeling her muscles tremble as she calmed down. They both drew in heaving gulps of air, trying to catch their breath. Remus, while softening, had not yet withdrawn, and realizing that he was probably crushing her, made to move when she stopped him.  
  
“Don’t! I . . . I like having you here, on top of me. It’s warm, and . . . it feels safe,” she said, softly, a little embarrassed.  
  
Remus merely smiled at her and rested his head on her breast, listening to her heartbeat as it slowed its beats. Hermione’s small hands stroked soothingly up and down his back, from his neck down to the small of his back and up again. Her stroking slowed, became erratic, and eventually stilled as she drifted off to sleep, with her lover in her arms.

Remus carefully lifted himself off her slender body, withdrawing from her as he did so. He gathered the sleeping girl in his arms, and held her carefully while he cried. When his limbs began to shake, warning him that the moon was rising, he kissed Hermione’s forehead, and then--with one powerful wrenching motion--snapped her neck.  
  
For once he didn’t mind being trapped in the wolf’s body, unable to speak. His grief was so vast that it couldn’t be articulated by human speech in any case. He wailed his grief for her, for Hermione. He yowled his guilt for being the one to end her life. He screamed at his helplessness, at the unfairness of the whole damned situation.  
  
He did the only thing he could: he howled.  
  



End file.
